


Deafening Silence

by hystericalcherries



Series: Deafening Silence [1]
Category: Big Hero 6 (2014), Disney - All Media Types
Genre: Deaf AU, Deaf!Hiro, Gen, Hamada bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 10:12:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3484415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hystericalcherries/pseuds/hystericalcherries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Hiro wonders what it's like to hear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Listen and Speak

Sometimes, Hiro wonders what it's like to hear.

Wonders in such a wistful way that he's sure Tadashi would scold him for it should he ever find out. But Hiro’s smart, extremely smart actually, and he doesn't even need a fraction of his intelligence to know that what Tadashi doesn't know won't hurt him. So, he continues to wonder- to think, to imagine, to dream.

Sometimes he imagines he can hear the going-ons of the cafe. The incoherent babble of customers as they go on with their lives, contently chewing loudly on their freshly baked pastries and slurping their drinks so profoundly it must sound something close to the waterfalls he sees on tv. Or how the chairs _screech_ against the hard floor, creating a sound that makes people in close proximity cringe and those far off to turn in its direction. The _clink_ of dishes as they're served and washed, always on the move. The small _ding_ the bell makes when someone new enters the place, door slamming shut with a resounding _thud_ behind them, their unique voices adding to the symphony of music that already exists within the warm atmosphere of the cafe, which is always ready to welcome another.

And when he's leaning precariously out his window he tries to guess what the outside world sounds like. The _honk_ of horns being blown by frustrated drivers, following a close call when Tadashi wasn’t there to cross the street with him. The meaningless chatter of strangers as they gossip and rush about, quick _click-clack_ of steps echoing after them like a marching militia. The screams of delighted children who have escaped the reins of their parents, sliding down grassy hills and sprinting after one another, not a single worry crossing their minds. The swift _slap_ of rubber on gravel when a bicyclist races by- a hobby that's considered too high risk for Hiro, Aunt Cass and Tadashi lecture when they find his makeshift rocket bike in pieces after a failed trial- high pitched bells preceding them and demanding attention.

He thinks long and hard about the small tune his Aunt Cass hums to herself when she goes about her day, unable to see his curious gaze from over the banister of the stairs. He puzzles over Mochi's _purr_ ; the vibrations that run through the feline and into his own chest as the chubby house pet claims it as his napping spot for the day only make him all the more curious. He pretends to know the sounds his tools might make when he uses them to create his latest ingenious idea, the _clanking_ and _creaking_ that occurs when metal meets metal marking progress he can't wait to show everyone. He ponders over Tadashi's recently revealed project, Baymax, and what its marshmallow exterior must sound like when it rubs against itself, the nursebot's precise steps surely giving it a rhythm he can't hear. He even considers what his own voice sounds like, self-consciously analyzing anyone and everyone's reaction to it when, on rare occasion, he decides to actually use his vocal cords.

But, most of all, he wonders about what Tadashi sounds like.

He wonders and wonders and wonders- and wonders some more after that, but finds that he can never come up with the right words to explain it all.

Sometimes, it eats away at him so much that he considers asking; considers swallowing his embarrassment and paranoia, even though he knows that Tadashi would never find it a hindrance and happily answer all his questions. Only, he chickens out when he confronts the older Hamada's patient and eager smile, instead asking about that nerd school of his and having to hold back an eye roll when his brother immediately starts rambling on about all its positive attributes in alphabetical order.

He finds himself staring at his brother when he talks to customers or his friends, finding that a small part of him is jealous that these people- these people who are definitely not him- get to hear it. Get to hear it and treat it like it's nothing, unaware of the privilege they possess. Unaware of his own burning questions, impatiently waiting to be asked and answered.

Is it high or low pitched? Loud or quiet? What about nasally? Does he have a lisp that slips into all his conversations as an unwelcome guest? Does it crack when he lies, moving embarrassingly up an octave when under pressure? Are his whispers just as secretive as the hand signs he sends Hiro's way under the dinner table, out of Aunt Cass's sight? Does his breath go wheezy when he laughs too hard at the jokes Hiro makes, eyebrows usually raised comically for the greatest effect? Is it as encouraging as his smile? As gentle as the comforting words he signs at him? Is it-

Hiro is violently thrown out of his thoughts when something hits him square in the face, making him jerk back in surprise. A noise escapes his lips. He can't hear it, but he knows nonetheless. He hopes it didn't sound as primitive as it felt.

He looks down and picks up the pencil that had been flung at him, inspecting it incredulously, before leveling his gaze with the person who's responsible for the object's unsuspected flight. Tadashi is sitting in the swivel chair across the garage, hand poised to throw another pencil and expression varying between amusement and concern. The older boy drops the potential projectile immediately once he captures Hiro's attention.

 _< What’s up_?>he inquires, both vocally and not, hand movements slow to ensure Hiro understand what exactly he means.

Hiro shakes his head, opting not to respond.

 _< You've been staring at me for the last fifteen minutes,> _his brother insists. < _Y_ _ou didn't even notice when I threw the other stuff. >_

The younger Hamada looks around his station, surprised to see an assortment of objects spread around him, ranging from erasers to protractors. He blinks owlishly before looking up and carefully considers his brother.

 _< I was just thinking_,> he decides to respond, elaborating when the other raises an eyebrow. < _O_ _f a new idea. >_

When Tadashi's unimpressed expression doesn't change, he smiles wide, knowing exactly what to say to get his brother's protective attitude to lay off. < _What do you think of the name 'Megabot 2.0'? Too cliché? >_

And true to his predictions, Tadashi rolls his eyes, mumbling something he can't quite read. But he does speak aloud a single word that Hiro does understand, not even needing the ability to hear, having already memorized the mouth formations necessary to produce such a word.

_< Knucklehead.>_

Hiro smiles cheekily when Tadashi crosses the room to pick up his utensils, affectionately ruffling his hair as he returns to his seat and work.

There's a lapse of conversation between the two after that, both seemingly content to mind their own; Tadashi with his work and Hiro in watching.

However, soon enough, Hiro finds himself getting bored.

The momentum for going back to his previous thought process is long gone, leaving him with only a few options; actually working on Megabot, which is something he finds he is unmotivated to do, or find some other distraction. He opts for the later.

The young prodigy slumps on the couch he's on, exhaling, head rolling back and limbs going limp. He spots Tadashi giving him a small, fond smile from his peripheral vision; he exhales, in what he hopes is a loud fashion, for the other's benefit and is pleased to see that it brings out a small chuckle before his brother turns back to his work with an amused shake of the head.

No longer having the attention of his brother, he turns toward the ceiling, counting the number of burn marks sketched into it (thirty seven). He flips onto his stomach when the exercise becomes too tedious and stretches over the arm of the couch, skinny arms extending and touching the cold floor. He's about to let out another sigh, chest the size of a balloon with how much air he's already inhaled, when he sees it.

 _It_ is a small box, hidden in an equally as small cavity made from the space between the couch and the shelves it’s pressed against. It's hidden just so, nestled as it is in the tight corner, Hiro realizes, that it'd be difficult to spot if one didn't know exactly where to look.

His hands move on their own accord, reaching out and pulling the cardboard box, contents and all, out of its shelter. He plops back onto his butt, crossing his legs underneath him as he settles the box in his lap. Eyebrows raise themselves as he reads the familiar scrawl sketched onto the cardboard.

_Hamada, Tadashi_

Before his fingers touch the folds of the box, Hiro pauses, hesitantly thinking about rules. Sacred rules, he reminds himself, that should be followed; especially Rule #34: Hamada Brothers don't touch one another’s stuff without clearance.

He's about to put the thing back when he feels something crinkle against his touch. A postage note, stuck to the bottom of the box. He skims over it curiously.

_Date: May 5th_

_Recipient: Hamada, Hiro_

_Model: 84.0_

He frowns and his fingers twitch, making the decision for him. He feels the sharp corners of the flaps and pulls at them, giving light to whatever lies inside the box. There's a moment where Hiro hesitates, eyes flickering in his brother's direction, before he charges on through and lifts the mystery object out of its packaging.

Brown eyes sweep over what seems to be some sort of gadget, studying and analyzing it. He turns it in his hands, lifting it closer to his face, eyes squinting in the low light, and nearly gives himself a heart attack when he flips a small switch and the thing breaks apart. It's not until closer inspection that he realizes that the thing isn't really broken, but actually two separate parts of a whole.

It looks like one of those earphones- which clip around the auricle of the ear to provide better stability- he sees joggers use all the time, minus the wires. But Hiro knows better than to assume. He knows better and he knows technology, especially something as advanced as this. When he pushes a tab and snaps back a thin layer of the outer casing, painted a rich purple with a single red stripe racing down it, he eyes the intricate work of circuits that blink back at him. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what it is.

A hearing aid.

His brows furrow as he considers it all. A hearing aid, from Tadashi it seems, obviously meant for Hiro, lying around. Lying around, waiting for the day to be discovered.

His first thoughts are ones of confusion. Was Tadashi trying to tell him something? Did he mean for Hiro to find this? Was this a hint toward something?

His next thoughts are filled with devastation. Did Tadashi give this to him because he thought Hiro a hindrance? Was Hiro’s handicap finally too much to bear? Did Tadashi resent being his brother? To having a ‘disabled’ nuisance latching onto him?

Hiro has never really thought about his deafness, not as a handicap anyway. It’s never been a problem to him- maybe an inconvenience on a full moon, but nothing more. Though, on occasion, when he’s feeling exceptionally low, he’ll think of all the complications it- he, makes. The drawbacks- the speech therapy he took in the earlier years of his life, the inconvenience of everyone having to learn sign language, the inevitable isolation that made his family worry, the bullying he received, the close calls. He’ll wonder about the happiness of his family, which, in turn, only worsens his mood- it taking Tadashi precisely one wrestling match to wring that storm cloud away, for it to be battled another day.

Of course, it’s crossed his mind that he could probably invent something that might fix his so-called ‘problem.’ But whenever it comes up, always accompanied by unconditional support from his family, Hiro finds himself almost relishing his deafness. He savors the way their family shapes itself around it, finding it unique and _theirs_.

Hiro looks up to see his brother deep in thought, unaware of the scrutiny or his inner monologue. Occasionally, he’ll passionately scratch something out in his notebook, mumbling to himself, mouth not moving prominent enough to give Hiro an accurate guess to what words he’s making.

Tadashi doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, he reminds himself with a firm shake of his head, and would never find Hiro a hindrance. He berates himself for his earlier overreaction, thinking that Tadashi only does what he does because he loves him- something his brother will openly state, unabashed as he makes a show of hugging Hiro, despite the embarrassing topic and public setting.

The hearing aid is a gift, Hiro realizes as he stares at his brother, an _option_. Not a spiteful hint or mean advice, but a choice that is entirely Hiro's. The young boy blinks a few times, eyes watery.

Suddenly, his older brother thrusts his fists into the air, scaring Hiro. It's years of living as the youngest that has Hiro's first instinct to stash the box and its content behind him and away from prying eyes and anyone who can scold him. His brother doesn't notice, face lighting up in joy and understanding as he starts talking to himself; doing the bare minimum of signing, too wrapped up in his blimp of exhilaration over a breakthrough, which Hiro is all too understanding of.

However, Hiro can't help but feel detached from the scene, from his brother. Can't help the bitterness that rises when Tadashi returns to his work with vigor, mumbling opinions, ideas, and thoughts Hiro won't hear. It feels like he's missing out. Feels like he doesn't know Tadashi as he should.

Not only does he wonder what it's like to hear, he _want_ s to be able to.

And that's what pushes him to take the hearing aid and clip both around his ears.

He sits there for a moment, ears sensitive to the cool material touching them, wondering. His nerves start tingling when he reaches up and presses down on the still open circuit board, feeling it vibrate as it powers on. He clicks the plastic covering back in place, shoving his restless hands in between his crossed legs, and waits.

 _Beep_.

Hiro freezes, eyes unfocusing.

It’s then that everything clicks into place. He is suddenly aware of the small fan in the corner of the room, its blades _whizzing_ and _humming_ insistently. He can hear the bird perched on the branch of the tree right outside the window, _chirping_ and _twittering_ with not a care in the world. He shifts, mind instantly zoning in on the sound of the fabric of the couch rubbing against his skin, so unique that he can’t adequately describe it.

It’s like nothing he’s ever known, yet, everything all at once. It doesn’t even matter that things sound muffled and distorted from time to time, it is its own type of clarity.

His face twitches, unsure of what it wants to convey.

A _creak_ breaks through the comfortable sounds of the garage, drawing Hiro’s attention to where Tadashi is leaning back in his chair. His brother scratches his arm, nails scraping against skin. Hiro sucks in a sharp breath when his brother opens his mouth and lets out the clearest “Yes!” A short laugh follows almost immediately.

Tadashi looks up, good-natured smile already in position. However, it soon morphs into a frown of concern when he takes in Hiro’s deer in headlights expression.

“Hiro?” he asks.

But Hiro doesn’t answer. Mouth parting as his jaw goes slack, he stares at his brother, speechless.

 _His voice_ , his mind whispers insistently, _his voice_. It’s deep, deeper than he expected. Warm too, mirroring what’s in his eyes. Strong, clear and precise, just like how he signs. Just like Tadashi.

Hiro’s eyes start to sting, vision blurring when the tears come.

“Hiro? What’s the matter? Hiro?” the older Hamada asks with more force, hands moving faster and more desperate the longer Hiro remains silent. “Hiro, come on buddy, I’m losing my mind here.” Voice taking on a more frantic tinge, he’s out of the chair and at Hiro’s side, kneeling down and setting both hands on the smaller of the two’s shoulders. Somewhere, outside the garage, a woman shrieks, it turning immediately into indignant scolding after. “Talk to me.”

A hiccup escapes the prodigy; the sound, so short and sudden, still isn’t enough to stop the tears. Every new sound makes him bawl harder, his cries loud in his own ears.

Tadashi gently pries away Hiro’s fist from his tear stained face, his expression stern as he lets go in order to sign, “Hiro, if you don’t tell me what’s going on th-”

“You,” he finally cries, one of his hands patting his brother’s larger ones, efficiently stopping their movement; the heel of his other hand rubs at his eyes, painfully digging into the socket. “It’s you.”

Tadashi stops, surprised just as Hiro is at the sound of his voice, confusion and pain mixing together as he whispers, “Me?”

“I-It’s your… s-stu-upid v-oice.”

“My voice?” Said voice rises in question. The younger boy nods, wiping his runny nose on his sleeve and making a face when he hears the sound and visual that accompanies it. “Why would my voice upset you? You can’t…”

He trails off, eyebrows furrowing momentarily. Then, somewhere in his mind, a light bulb must goes off. Instantly, his eyes widen to the largest Hiro has ever seen them, expression shifting. Hiro can hear his breathing, especially so when his brother reaches over and pushes a few strands of unruly hair to the side, uncovering his ears and the bright tech settled there.

There's a moment where all Tadashi does is stare. Stare so intently and with such an unreadable expression that Hiro stops his sniffling and can't help but stare back, albeit apprehensively.

The silence is broken with a whisper, so quiet that Hiro almost doesn't catch it. "You can hear me."

Hiro nods, long and slow. He can hear himself swallow and lick his lips, mouth dry, before answering, "Yeah."

At the sound of that small 'yeah' Tadashi flickers back to life.

He laughs, the sound loud and full of cheer. So full of joy that it has a beginning of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, eventually erupting into childish laughter when Tadashi hoists him up and starts jumping around. His older brother pulls him close into a bone crushing hug.

"Hiro!" He shouts, seemingly unable to contain himself, making the younger wince and pat his ear tentatively. "Oops, sorry. But Hiro! This is- oh my god! You can, I mean, I made it for you, but I never expect- just, wow."

All the while, Hiro listens to his brother, basking in his awestruck excitement and obvious joy. The tears are long gone when they start spinning, navigating around furniture and machinery. The happy mood is broken for a fraction of a second when they haphazardly trip over a box of tools, falling into a graceless lump on the floor; quiet curses are muttered about traitorous monkey wrenches stabbing them in the back.

"Wait, wait, wait," Tadashi calls out as they're pulling themselves up. Hiro stops, eyes locking onto eyes just as brown, brows arching quizzically. Tadashi grins, mischief in every line. "Let's show Aunt Cass."

He hears the unspoken 'mess with' and can't help the impish smile that spreads across his face. He scrambles to his feet, pushing playfully at his brother’s larger form when it gets in the way, aiming for the door.

They're soon racing up the stairs, feet pounding on the wooden floor as they excitedly call out to their aunt.

 


	2. Delicious Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which pastries are ruined and dance masters are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by Mark Ronson and Bruno Mars’s song, ‘Uptown Funk’.

Hiro's stretched out on the floor, enjoying the afternoon lull, lazing about next to a sleepy Mochi, when it happens. He has just enough time to raise his head from the cat's stomach at the sound of heavy footsteps racing up the stairs when, suddenly, Aunt Cass rounds the corner and stumbles right over him.

Time seems to slow down briefly as they make eye contact- able to see the flicker of surprise in the other’s expression- until a mixture of bad balance and gravity take their course.

Pastries go flying, landing on the floor and furniture alike with a _squish_ . A foot stamps on Mochi's unsuspecting tail, procuring a fierce yowl as the cat immediately tries to escape, only to slip on the innards of the morning's raspberry tart and run into a chair, overturning it. A pan _clanks_ onto the floor _,_ loud like a thunderclap so close to Hiro's face; a toe jabs into Hiro's side as he tries to roll out of the way, evoking a squawk of pain to escape his mouth. Yet, it's Aunt Cass's surprised yell that dominates over everything, climbing an octave as she crashes to the floor, valiantly trying to save her baked goods, only just failing.

They’re a tangle of limbs and bruised deserts when it’s all over.

Hiro lifts himself onto his elbows, swatting away the silverware that snuck their way underneath him, digging painfully into his stomach. He watches his aunt pick herself up, apology already leaving his lips as he scrambles (and slips) to his feet, offering her a hand, "Crud, sorry, Aunt Cass! Are you alright?"

She accepts his hand, mouth twisting in disgust when she realizes that there's goo sticking to her palm. She goes to wipe it on her shirt, only to pause, eyes assessing the damage done to the article of clothing before she sighs in defeat and continues with the action. Her form slumps when eyes rake over the mess, zoning in on the stains on the furniture that probably won't come out without a fight. But when her gaze finally settles on Hiro, eyebrows set and arms crossed, Hiro blanches.

“Hiro.” Fingers tap, with impatience or annoyance he doesn't know, against her arm as she demands, "Explain."

“Um, you fell and-” Hiro catches her raised eyebrows, “-tripped, you tripped. You tripped… well, over me and, and then stepped on Mochi- that darn cat, always getting in the way-”

“Hiro.” Her firm tone stops him; he notices when her foot starts to tap in tandem with her fingers. It’s a dangerous rhythm they follow, one that spells trouble and grounding for Hiro if he isn’t careful.

“Yes?” He smiles in what he hopes is an apologetic and forgiveness-inducing manner.

“Why…” she begins, a slender hand coming up to press against her temple. “What were you doing on the floor?”

“I… ” He begins almost defensively, before embarrassment butts in and takes its place. He glances at the floor, dark hair shielding his face from scrutiny and interpretation. His hands unconsciously move, silently forming words. “I was... uh, listening... to Mochi’s purr.”

There's a silence where only the hum of the refrigerator can be heard.

Hiro hears her sigh and peaks through his hair to see her uncross her arms. He takes an even bigger chance and meets her eyes, turning hopeful when he sees her eyes soften.

"Oh, Hiro..." His aunt steps forward and tugs him into a warm embrace, one of her more gentle ones. Shoulders relax when he feels her stroke his hair, pushing it behind his ears (he tries to ignore how her fingers hesitates when they brush against the cool material of his hearing aids). However, the mood is broken when she suddenly pinches his cheeks, gushing, "You are just so cute!"

"Ow! H-hey!" he exclaims, leaning back and out of reach. But she persists, placing both hands on his cheeks and pulling at them, laughing when he sputters indignant protests. "St-top! Aunt Cass, what are you- no, this is- it's embarrassing!"

"If you didn't want me doing this, then you shouldn't go around saying sweet things like that," she tells him, caging him in her arms as she bends down to pepper kisses on his face, laughing even more when he makes a face and hotly informs her that he isn't five. Eventually, he stops his futile attempts and lets her kiss him one last time, ears pricked to the smacking sound her lips make when they connect to his cheek.

 _Finally_ , she lets go of him, but not without bestowing one last pinch. The young boy wipes at his cheek, grumbling halfheartedly.

“Now, help me clean this mess up,” she orders, reaching for one of the apple fritters squished between the cushions of the couch. “Unless you’re too old for that, too.”

He huffs at her playful quip, marching over and picking up the chair- he sends Mochi a look while he's doing it, receiving a casual flick of the tail in return. He tosses two pieces of Castella and a powdered donut into the trash, clapping his hands together.

Eventually a duster and pan find its way into his hands while a mop suddenly appears in hers.

There’s a comfortable silence between the two, one that Hiro surprisingly enjoys.

Hiro smiles as he bends down and starts brushing away crumbs, finding it interesting that even though he’s spent most of his life in silence, he’s still able to enjoy it. Privately, he thinks the best part of silence are the noises that thrive in it. Subtle things, like the _creak_ of the floorboards as Aunt Cass leans more on her left foot or the _tick, tock_ of the old clock balanced on the wall just above the small cupboard holding small baubles the brothers have present their aunt over the years. He feels that he is able to cherish sounds more when accompanied by the lack of them.

It’s then that he hears a soft hum fill the silence. It glides through the air in graceful waves until it reaches him, caressing his ears with its sweet melody.

His head snaps up, neck cracking painfully as he peers over the arm of the couch. Aunt Cass is cleaning up the raspberry filling at her feet, gently swaying to her own tune. When she finishes with that spot she moves onto the next, voice rising and falling with every _swish_ of the mop.

 _Pretty_... Hiro thinks, head tilting as he tries to better hear it, finding that he quite likes what it adds to the comfortable mood of the afternoon. He starts when Aunt Cass looks in his direction, catching him off guard, and ducks behind the couch a little too late- she's already noticed that he's not working. The humming comes to an abrupt stop.

"That bad, huh?" she asks, leaning against the mop. It takes him a moment to process her words and a bit longer to make the connection that's she talking about her humming. Her lips quirk when he shakes his head with fervor, hand resting casually on her hip. There's a gleam in her eye when she laughs, warm and inviting, that he doesn't recognize. "How 'bout we listen to something that won't have our ears bleeding by the end of the day?"

Then she’s walking over to the old radio situated next to the toaster. He watches as she fiddles with it, turning a few knobs, even going so far as threatening to sell it when it doesn't cooperate. Her efforts are rewarded with static- the sound crinkly and grating, reminding Hiro of the buzz flies produce when they whizz about the room; it’s one of Hiro’s least favorite sounds. Hiro's face scrunches up distastefully, involuntarily leaning back despite the stretch of distance between him and the radio, as Aunt Cass all but smacks the thing. With a spurt the ugly static cuts off, pleasant music taking its place.

She turns back to him, triumphant smile in place.

Hiro smiles in return, giggling when his aunt does a little jig. He comes out from behind the couch, stepping over Mochi who's sniffing at a pile of what looks to be the inside of a pie.

It's a funny thing, music. With its cacophony of individual instruments and vocals coming together and forming a whole, harmonizing into something enjoyable that wouldn't be possible on its own. Just like robotics, Hiro thinks.

Though the music coming from the radio is different than the music he had been introduced to before his hearing aids- Tadashi had brought in a giant set of speakers and told the then eight year-old Hiro to place his hands on them, looking on with pride as the younger boy exclaimed his awe and excitement when he could feel the beat of the bass. Hiro finds that he quite enjoys the sound of drums, so loud and deep that he can feel it in his bones.

The beat is almost addictive in the way it has his body unconsciously moving along to it. How it gets his foot tapping and fingers twitching. How it pushes him to join his aunt, eliciting a laugh from her when he struts over with much exaggeration.

* * *

 It's half an hour later when Tadashi arrives home, school bag draped over his shoulder and a folder filled to the brim with schematics in his hands. He pauses in the doorway, curiously looking around the nearly empty cafe- greeting a few of the more familiar customers and waiters with a pleasant smile- when he hears the music.

Naturally, he makes his way toward the noise, muffled and indistinguishable as it is, and finds himself climbing the stairs to the loft that claims the title of home.

The music gets louder and louder the higher he climbs, his mind finally able to piece together its upbeat melody along with the garbled sound of his family. Brows furrow when he has to skip over a step in order not to step in the remains of a flaky croissant settled there. His confusion only increases when he finally reaches the top of the stairs and spots more pastries spread about the place. Mouth open to ask why there's a cream puff speared on the wall decoration he turns, the words immediately dying in his throat as he catches sight of his family.

Amidst the mess is Hiro and his aunt, who, unaware of his presence, are dancing around the loft; a radio blasts out music from its perch on the kitchen counter. He watches his little brother (always the first to declare how he'd rather be dragged kicking and screaming to Tadashi's super lame, nerd school than be caught dancing) hop on one leg, head nodding to the music, while he pretends the mop in his hands is a guitar. Watches his aunt swing their cat in what looks to be an attempt at a waltz, passionately serenading him- Mochi only looks straight ahead, a resigned expression settled on his feline face.

He blinks- once, twice, three times.

Then, suddenly, he’s laughing.

Laughing like he’s never laughed before. Laughing so hard and loud that it dominates over the music, catching the attention of his family. They freeze in their tracks, looking comically stricken at being caught in the act of such tomfoolery- it only fuels the fire, his laugh growing until it becomes too much. He bends over, hand grasping at his side when his diaphragm cramps.

"Stop laughing, you nerd!" comes Hiro's indignant call, brandishing the mop-turned-guitar like a weapon, ready to whack the smile off his brother's face. Embarrassment colors his cheeks, growing brighter the longer Tadashi laughs.

Aunt Cass merely rolls with it, not at all abashed as she deposits Mochi onto the floor and sashays her way toward a cabinet. She throws Tadashi a towel, "C'mon and help us with the spring cleaning, you lazybones."

"Aunt Cass," he says in between laughs, breathless, wiping away the tears, "it's summer."

"My point exactly, we're late!" She bounces to the music that's still playing, humming along happily.

When Tadashi finally stops laughing, and looks over at his brother he finds that Hiro is still sulking. The older Hamada offers a smile as a peace offering, but it's rejected when the boy abruptly turns away and starts cleaning with more effort than strictly necessary.

Tadashi frowns at his brother's back, taking in the fact that he's no longer dancing. Those small shoulders are stiff, head hunched as he looks down at his work.

Aunt Cass sends him a pointed look from over Hiro's head, glancing meaningfully at the boy and then back at him. He nods, comprehension instant, depositing his bag in the corner of the room before sidestepping into the younger's vision, giving his best pout. But Hiro just ignores him and turns to face the stairs again- only to see Tadashi doing the moonwalk across the path, striking a pose when the song hits a particular hard note.

Tadashi is sure he sees a smile, or, at least, a shadow of one when Hiro turns this time around. The movement of the mop isn't so choppy anymore, but, rather, moves to a set rhythm.

Jumping over the couch, he swipes the mop from Hiro's grasp, the boy too surprised to even think about putting up a fight. Hiro watches as Tadashi sings into the pretend mic, not even close to the proper pitch. Aunt Cass rushes over and joins him, wrapping a hand around his broad shoulders as she belts into the mop stick. They bump their hips together, exaggerating their expressions of excitement. The youngest Hamada watches them pause with the music, expectant, only to start up again with more vigor when it continues. Watches Aunt Cass attempt a high kick as Tadashi does the robot.

Hiro watches and can't help the grin the spreads onto his face, tooth gap making a much awaited appearance. Watches until Tadashi lunges forward and picks him up, throwing him over his shoulder while he jumps around the loft.

They dance on through the song and when it finishes they dance through the next one, and the one after that. Dance until they drop, exhausted, onto the pastry littered floor. Dance so long that the original reason of cleaning is forgotten, forgotten amongst smiles and music.

That is, until later, when Tadashi steps and slips on a lone piece of cheesecake.

And the only way to stop Hiro’s uncontrollable laughter is to shove a random dessert in his surprised face, and, by then, it’s an entirely new mess to clean up.


	3. The Sound of Genius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang finally get to meet the infamous little brother of their best friend, Tadashi Hamada.

Hiro Hamada.

Boy Genius. Science prodigy. Youngest graduate of San Fransokyo's most prestigious high school. Bot fighter.

It's quite a reputation to precede a fourteen year-old- such a reputation is almost unbelievable. And if it hadn't been for  _ Tadashi Hamada _ , honest and good to the bone and all around nice guy, to inform them of the boy's legacy, it's highly doubtful his friends would even believe it.

But, truth be told, Tadashi confirms all the rumors with pride in his eyes. He even adds his own stories to the mix, talking of hover crafts and cat rockets and things that could only arise from a little boy's imagination. They listen, intrigued and amused at the same time, supplying questions that the Hamada answers with passion.

Yet, what makes it real isn't the outstanding displays of brilliance, but, rather, the domestic characteristics Tadashi describes. What the media labels as boy genius, Tadashi replaces with the title 'Mister Sass Master' or 'King of the Boneheads'. Where others marvel at his aptitude for robotics, Tadashi talks about a boy with a major sweet tooth and an unwavering love of gummy bears. When someone mentions something about graduating early, Tadashi grumbles something about lazy kids who don't want to apply themselves. And the entire nerd lab learns not to utter anything even remotely concerning bot fights, lest they want an hour long rant on the subject.

So, they learn all there is too know about the kid without actually meeting him. Even get a visual when Tadashi brings in a picture under Honey's request, spying a skinny kid with a gap toothed smile that dominates his face- _ Oh, Tadashi! He's utterly adorable! _ \- barely holding onto a fat cat that looks confused to how it got there.

However, one of the last things they learn about is his deafness.

It's not that Tadashi purposefully withholds the information, he simply forgets. He's abashed and ashamed at the same time when he finally informs them of it- the question spurred by a comment made about the occasional signing he does when he talks. 

He was born with it, Tadashi tells them, teasingly calling it a package deal with his extremely high IQ. 

They express sympathy for the boy, proclaiming that it must be hard, especially for someone his age. But Tadashi politely rejects their pity, saying that it isn't a problem nor a disability, not for Hiro; Hiro, someone who wouldn't let anything stand in his way when he set his mind to it, had decided long ago that he was fine with his deafness and wouldn't let it hold him back.

Sure, he doesn't have many (any) friends his age, but that's more because of the genius aspect. And, yes, Tadashi would love it if that wasn't so, but settles for worrying about it at a minimum only because Hiro himself doesn't seem to be bothered with it. But besides that and the occasional confusion of a Lucky Cat Cafe customer trying to order through Hiro (only to find that Hiro doesn't hear him or his desire for a triple-shot espresso with cream) life is as average as can be. They manage just as well as anyone else, maybe even better.

And that's the end of that.

Until, one day, Tadashi decides it's high time to bring Hiro in and introduce him to his friends.

He announces it on the Tuesday after midterms and keeps reminding them of it til the day of, getting more and more cheerful as the set date comes to be. Honey bounces off the walls in excitement, gushing over it with Tadashi and anyone they can rope in with their enthusiasm.

With how much fanfare was put into the days before his arrival it's ironic that the actual arrival of Tadashi's little brother is quiet and peaceful.

They enter silently, only the door closing behind them with a soft  _ click _ , barely audible over the sounds of the lab, announcing their presence.

The group look up to see Tadashi, hands in his pockets, guiding a shorter form into the main lab. A mop of hair that sticks out every which way frames a round face pitched on a thin frame; big, brown eyes look at them from under thick lashes, glancing at Tadashi momentarily before the boy gives a small wave.

"Ooh!" Honey Lemon squeals and skips forward, embracing the boy enthusiastically with a kiss on both cheeks. Hiro's cheeks flush as the rest crowd around him, eyes flickering to each of them in turn.

"It's great to finally meet you Hiro!"

"Yeah, little man." Fred drapes an arm around the younger boy's shoulders, directing him to the part of the lab where his chair resided. Hiro, for his part, listens, looking away only when the other is done speaking, eyes trying to take in all his surroundings. He eyes their labs, staring at their tech and projects.

Noticing his staring, Wasabi steps forward and detaches Fred from the kid, "So, Hiro, did Tadashi tell you about what we do in the lab?"

Fred is undeterred by his removal from Hiro, "Oh yeah, it's totally amazing. They're even making me a serum to turn into a giant lizard monster, right Honey?"

Honey only shakes her head, an apologetic expression directed towards Hiro.

But, silence is all they receive from their antics. Hiro isn't paying them any attention, still looking at the tech, oblivious to everything else.

Wasabi gives a nervous laugh, shrugging at a now frowning Tadashi, "Uh..."

Their friend lightly taps his brother on the shoulder, head nodding to the group and the question they just asked.

But Hiro just looks at them blankly.

Tadashi's eyebrows furrow as he quickly signs something to his brother, his index finger moving from side to side and then outlining what looked to be a question mark. The boy's answer, though muted, screams an sheepish undertone, even more so at Tadashi's exasperated expression.

"Sorry, guys, I think he forgot his hearing aids in my bag. It's with my bike," Tadashi explains before shrugging and smiling good naturedly. "No worries, I'll just run back and get them."

He angles himself toward the door, pausing to sign something at his brother with a stern expression, and tells them, "Watch him for a sec, yeah? I'll be back before you know it."

And with that he's gone, jogging back to the parking lot. They're left standing there, staring after his retreating form, until, as one unit, they turn their attention towards their new charge. Silently, Hiro stares back.

"Well, I say we get down to business." Fred starts, pulling a comic book out of thin air and hunching over to be level with Hiro. "How cool are you with inventing a-"

"No, shush!" Honey loudly whispers, manicured hands clamping over the science enthusiast's mouth. "It's considered rude to speak aloud in front of deaf people."

"Plus he can't even hear you, genius." Gogo leans against a table, the only one unfazed by the communication problem that seems to have risen up. She pulls out a stick of gum from inside her jacket, offering it to the boy to her right, not taking her eyes off the other three. She doesn't move when he accepts it, popping it in his mouth with a pleased smile, but merely takes out another piece and replaces the flavorless one that she unceremoniously sticks to the underside of Wasabi's unsuspecting desk.

"If we can't talk," Honey Lemon sends Wasabi a wide-eyed look, causing him to lower his voice. "what are we supposed to do?"

They dip into silence briefly, broken only by the loud chewing of gum.

"Oh, I know!" Fred exclaims suddenly, completely ignoring Honey's attempt at shushing him as he steps forward into the no-man's land between them and Hiro. He lifts his hands high in the air and starts stomping around the lab, face making a variety of extreme expressions.

Gogo raises a single eyebrow (and opts to smother her smile when she spies Hiro doing the same thing), unimpressed.

"What are you doing?" Wasabi almost sounds genuinely curious.

Fred leans too close to Gogo and has to skirt out of the way to dodge a punch. A curious Hiro watches, an amused smile curling at his lips. "What does it look like?"

"You honestly don't want me to answer that."

"I'm using an ancient technique that was said to be used by the Aztecs when they wanted to speak with their gods- all of which were proved to be actual aliens through science, by the way." He gives a conspiratorial smile to the kid, one that even Honey Lemon's hesitant correction of his facts can't dim, and shoves some paper in his mouth and pretends to devour it. "Charades."

Wasabi just shakes his head, exhaling loudly as Honey Lemon tries to prevent Fred from putting a handful of erasers into his mouth, who's claiming that he's obviously interpreting Godzilla rampaging through Tokyo. Gogo allows herself a small smile as she watches, amusement sparkling in her eyes. 

The others are still at it, bickering and teasing one another, when Gogo feels a pull on her shirt and looks down to see Hiro, wordlessly pointing at the door leading to Tadashi's lab. He's looking up at Gogo, the assumed authority with the lack of Tadashi's presence, imploringly.

Gogo's eyes narrow and her lips purse as she considers the inquiry, sizing the boy up and observing the impatient way he shuffles from one foot to the other. She seems to find whatever she's looking for adequate and gives a simple nod.

And that's all Hiro needs before he's bouncing off, punching in a code that has the door hissing open before he slips in, door closing shut behind him.

It takes a while but the others eventually notice the boy is gone and question it with varying degrees of surprise and disappointment. The shortest of the group waves a hand absentmindedly toward Tadashi's lab, about to comment on how they undoubtedly scared their charge off when Tadashi himself bursts into the room.

He comes crashing through the door, stumbling and falling when he isn't able to stop on time to evade a lone chair in his way. Fred barks out a laugh, earning a light tap of the shoulder from Honey, scolding.

"Where is he?" Their friend pants, hands bracing themselves on the table as he picks himself up. 

"Cool it, Hamada," Gogo says, picking up his hat, dusting it off with an efficient flick of her wrist before offering it to him. A pink bubble grows into existence before she clamps down on it with her teeth, producing a loud  _ pop _ . "He's in your room."

"Oh," he says, shoulders relaxing. He straightens to his full height. "Good."

Wasabi steps forward and brushes off microscopic pieces of lint from Tadashi's back, asking, "What got you in such a rush, anyway?"

"They aren't there," he tells them, placing his signature baseball cap back on his head. Dumping his bag on the table, shaking it a bit so that all its contents spill out- a notebook, two pens, a pair of earphones, what looked to be a miniature first aid kit, and countless lollipops in an assortment of colors-  and motions toward it all. "His hearing aids. They aren't in my bag and I know we brought them." 

There's an expectant silence.

"That means he has them," he continues, sighing when they still don't understand and give him questioning looks. "And purposefully lied and said he didn't have them."

"Meaning...?" 

Tadashi's eyes narrow, suspicious. "He's up to something."

"C'mon man, your little brother is totally chill," Fred declares. Honey Lemon nods from her perch on the arm of his chair.

"Yeah," Wasabi agrees. "That's a pretty big conclusion you're jumping to."

Tadashi almost looks offended, leaning back and placing a hand on his chest. "I'm not-"

"How about we go and ask Hiro!" Honey Lemon innocently suggests, clapping her hands together. She loops her arm through Tadashi's, guiding him away and leaving the others to follow. But when Tadashi opens the door and they file into the room, one thing becomes obviously clear.

Hiro isn't there. 

The room, spacious and organized to a fault, is devoid of any sign of the boy. A pile of candy wrappers, crumpled and scattered along Tadashi's workspace, is the only proof they have that he was even there; eventually Wasabi shuffles over and efficiently gathers them all together, material crinkling against one another, in his hand and throws them away in the bin next to the desk.

"He's not here," Gogo states unhelpfully.

"Maybe he's invisible," Fred suggests in a voice that sounds a bit too hopeful, hands reaching out and about.

"Where could he have gone?" one of them asks frantically. "I mean, he's like, what, thirteen?"

"Fourteen," Tadashi corrects with a scoff. He’s already scoping the lab for his little brother, checking under tables and inside cabinets- even going so far as to unhook an air vent and take a peek inside, muttering something about ‘Hamada Brothers Extreme Hide n’ Seek’.

They hear a clanging from a room further down the hallway.

Tadashi sets off immediately, a stern expression starting to form. The rest follow, exchanging glances, not used to the overly serious attitude of their friend. Without a word, faster than they've ever seen him, Tadashi barges down the hallway and through the door.

Once in the room, or rather, the spacious and empty lab, they don't have long to mull over the noise.

There's Hiro, in the middle of the room, decked out in spare parts and a pair of safety goggles in an imitation of armor. In his hands is one of Gogo’s many disks and what looks to be a water gun. No, not a water gun, they learn when the boy aims it and shoots, greenish energy leaving the nozzle and hitting an empty soda can perched on one of the cabinets with an impressive blast. And when the blast rebounds, Hiro holds up the electromagnetic disk like a shield, absorbing it.

When he turns to a new target they catch sight of his ears and the tech settle there.

"Hiro!" Tadashi's voice scares them all, powerful and stern. It has Hiro starting, the force of his next shot throwing him off balance. He falls onto his butt with a small 'oof,’ barely missing the rebound shot that flies past his head and into the wall behind him, leaving behind a large scorch mark.

" _ Hiro _ !" Tadashi is first on the scene, already squatting by his brother's from before the others even have time to blink. He's checking over Hiro, grabbing arms and legs and lifting them up for inspection. The boy is blinking slowly, dazed as he tries- and partially succeeds- to focus on what his brother is saying. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

As soon as the older Hamada gets a nod in response he starts smacking the younger one, enunciating every word with a hit, "What. Is. Wrong. With. You."

"H-hey! Stop it." It's the first time they've heard him speak. Some syllables slide and merge with the others, becoming almost indistinguishable. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"You nearly got killed- and gave me a heart attack!" He lifts Hiro up by the armpits, easily taking on his weight, and sets him straight. He starts to de-armor the teen, scolding all the while.

"It was pretty cool though, huh?" Hiro asks, voice flowing better with the return of focus, grinning as he spins the gun with ease.

"Give me that." Hiro pouts, but does as he's told and hands over the thing. Tadashi disables it quickly, taking it apart with an efficiency that can only come from constant practice and experience. He unloads the ammo, which is a small glass tube filled with a green substance. He carefully tosses it to Wasabi. "And I believe that's yours."

The burly man regards the vile closely, eyebrows furrowed, "Is this one of my lasers?"

"You don't know?" Gogo asks, hand on her hip.

"I mean, it is- it's got the same wavelength, but I've never been able to concentrate it enough to make it portable and still retain its original force." Wasabi suddenly freezes. "Wait. When- Where did you get this?"

When Hiro doesn't immediately answer Tadashi nudges his shoulder, glance towards Wasabi with a particular look. The boy sighs, face taking on an apologetic expression, "From your table..."

"From my..." Wasabi begins before he yelps. "My system- in disarray!" He's running out of the room, only momentarily hindered by the door as he tries to pull instead of push. "Utter chaos!"

No one but Hiro reacts, eyebrows arching up in surprise at the man's over-the-top antics. If anything, Honey Lemon looks to be trying- and failing- to hide a smile, hip bumping into Gogo's, whose eyes sparkle with something close to amusement. Fred gives Hiro a huge grin, as if nothing is out of the ordinary.

Tadashi slips off the goggles from the bridge of Hiro's nose, tucking them into the collar of his own shirt as he mumbles something about stupid brothers who forget to wear helmets. When Hiro hears he makes a face at his older brother, which has Tadashi signing something, too quick for the other's to even have a hope of understanding, a small chuckle escaping him when Hiro sticks out his tongue in response.

Gogo walks over and bends down to pick up the forgotten disk on the floor behind them, frowning when her fingers smooth over the object's surface. Honey sees her confused expression and shuffles over, questioning.

"There's something off..." Gogo trails off, too focused on the object in her hands to notice when Fred leans in closer, intrigued, and into her personal space.

The taller girl adjusts her glasses, bending down to have a better look. "Is that my-?"

"It's another stage of your Hydro-repellent," is the clipped answer that, to their surprise, came from Hiro. The boy is struggling to get off a shoulder pad, which had snagged on his t-shirt, while simultaneously waving off his brother's helping hands. "I enhanced it to include the subgroup of lasers, set to a certain wavelength anyway, that it can repulse." 

He pauses, finally looking up and noticing their stares, before he adds, almost as an afterthought, "I'm sorry I, uh, borrowed it without asking. And also for-" there he looks at Gogo, shoulders hunching a bit at the girl's hard eyes as she expertly spins the disk in her hands "-borrowing that too."

"Oh, don't you worry about it!" Honey says, smiling to diffuse the boy's nervousness and calling it a success when he offers a shy one in return. "We forgive you."

"Yeah, totally, it's all underwater bridges." Fred supplies, clapping the younger boy on the back.

"The phrase is 'water under the bridge,’ idiot," Gogo corrects, rolling her eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be an English major?"

But Fred isn't listening anymore, but looping an arm around both Tadashi and Hiro, suggesting, "Oh man, all this science is making me hungry. How 'bout we take this party out to eat?"

"There is this new place uptown that I've been meaning to try." Honey brushes a few strands of hair out of her face before abruptly throwing her hands into the air. "And Hiro can come too!"

She disentangles said boy from Fred's grasp, hugging him to her side, oblivious to the pink pooling in his cheeks. She pauses only for a moment to look questioningly towards Tadashi, who nods his head, before continuing on. She whisks Hiro away, talking of food and chemistry, "And you'll have to tell me how you successfully manipulated the molecules to include Wasabi's lasers!"

The others trailing behind barely hear his response, but they can tell it's just as eager by Honey Lemon's excited squeal.

And when Fred runs up ahead, saying something about kidnapping Wasabi, Tadashi turns to Gogo, smiling, "Bet you believe all my stories now, huh?"

The girl looks away, to where Hiro is waving his hands in some motion and Honey is mimicking him with a determined expression on her face, and allows herself a small smirk. "Every one."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for the pitiful effort at science in this. I know next to nothing about anything, especially concerning chemistry and whatnot.


	4. Mute Apparatus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silence is its own form of communication.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this written for the longest time, but never got to actually publishing it. It's a little rough, but I'm too busy to look it over again.

It isn't often that the Hamada brothers fought.

Argue and bicker? Sometimes. A quick disagreement here and a small tussle there? Sure. Exasperated lectures and annoyed quips? Of course. But an uncensored, unadulterated fight? Rarely.

The fact of the matter is Hiro and Tadashi, by definition, get along. Their Aunt Cass has a great number of stress induced complaints- disassembled drones scattered across the living room floor, Mochi and his rocket boots stuck in a tree monthly, grease stains on her favorite pillow, the toilet seat left up for the third time in a week- but never this. The brothers are thick as thieves, sharing living space and secrets alike with concerning ease. Maybe it has something to do with their situation and the loss of their parents; they cling to each other like it is all they have left, as if a single glance away will result in two dwindling into one.

Which leaves Hiro in quite a predicament where he is now, locked away in their room as Tadashi paces outside, calling through the door in a voice mixed with anger, exhaustion, and worry.

“Hiro…” His brother's voice slips through the cracks of the door, threatening to break the younger’s stubborn resolve. “Let me in- we can talk about this…”

But Hiro doesn't want to make amends, doesn't want his anger and frustration to be soothed by the reasonable words his brother will spin. So he takes out his hearing aids, silencing his brother and the temptation to reconcile.

The resulting silence is deafening, so to speak, and Hiro almost stumbles when he yanks them out of his ears. But he quickly regains his balance and angrily throws the tech, watching it hit, with perfect aim, an old engineering book, bent with age and use, before plopping onto the shelf underneath it. Tension is strung high in his muscles as he crosses and uncrosses his arms, pacing a small portion of his room with quick steps; he no longer hears the sounds he speaks aloud, a jumbled mess they likely are.

In a try at expulsion of the coiled fire that twists his insides, the preteen angrily kicks at his bedpost, only to yelp in pain when the wooden frame stands far firmer than his easily bruised flesh.

He sits down on his bed and nurses his battle wound, massaging his foot. The pain lingers though, pulsing every time Hiro applies too much pressure to the area. Eventually he sets it back on the ground, pointedly ignoring the throbbing. For a while he stares at the limb, gaze eventually drifting to the floor boards and the pattern they run across the room.

He bows his head, forehead resting on his knees as he lets out a deep breath. It’s during this moment, where he doesn’t know what to feel, that he notices it. A prickle of skin, goosebumps rising in response. A tingling sensation at the back of his head and neck, unusual in how it calls for action. Hiro looks up and behind him, only to be greeted with the sight of a large, blinking marshmallow standing across the room from him.

Baymax.

The robot lifts an arm and waves in his usual greeting, automatic voice lost somewhere in the space between him and Hiro's ears. The boy blinks owlishly, both surprised and confused at the robot's sudden appearance. There is a minute where Baymax repeats his little wave and Hiro just stares, uncomprehending.

Baymax blinks.

Hiro blinks back.

Then Baymax is shuffling towards the boy, halting just outside of his comfort zone. Hiro angles his head up to look straight into the robot's face, thinking idly to himself that the looming height would be intimidating if not for the uncanny resemblance to a certain Pillsbury Doughboy.

The robot's upper torso lights up, bringing forth two horizontal rows of emojis with a range of expressions and numbers accordingly. A puddy finger points at the screen as the face looks somehow imploringly at Hiro. And when brown eyes flicker blankly between the screen and the robot’s face, the gesture is repeated. The nursebot doesn't move beyond that, but Hiro has the feeling that he is missing something; another point at the screen concretes the idea and Hiro, with years of experience of public schooling and teachers unfamiliar with his situation, feels that a question is being repeated. The boy shakes his head at that discovery, habitually pointing to his ears.

Baymax cocks his oval head.

For reasons that Hiro can’t even begin to understand, this annoys him. He had finally gotten rid of his brother and now his dumb project was going to be taking his place as residential mother hen. Honestly, he just wanted to be alone. Would Hiro ever catch a break?

In an effort in ignoring his problems, the boy slumps to the floor and scoots across the floor until his back hits the wall between his desk and bed. Though it is all for naught because the robot follows him, curvy exterior pushing obnoxiously against his chair, causing it to roll off towards the door, and blocking out a great deal of the light filtering through the window.

< _Go away._ > he orders, aiming to kick the tubby stomach. < _I_ _’m not in the mood._ >

 _There, there._ Baymax’s screen displays just where his heel connect with synthetic covering, the letters rising from the bottom. Undeterred by the abuse, a large, four fingered hand pats him on the head. _It will be alright._

Hiro jerks back. < _You can understand me?_ >

 _I am fluent in many languages, including, but not limited to, those that communicate through nonverbal cues._ The robot's inflatable form jiggles as he settles on the floor next to Hiro, somehow finding room in the cramped space while still in a position for Hiro to see his screen and the words that appear there. _It is one of the first codes to be uploaded into my system. Though I have since added to it, cataloging what I have observed and gathered from my time activated._

< _Tadashi…_ > The boy pauses, fingers poised up and waiting for the next word. < _Did Tadashi really do that?_ >

 _Yes. He also programmed an alternative for those who do not know how to read or those who do not wish to._ Baymax informs him as the screen splits in two, written words still appearing in time with the robot's on one side while the other brings up a well edited video of familiar hands sighing. _If you prefer the second method, I am able t-_

< _No_ , > he declares, suddenly angry at seeing Tadashi, even if it's only his hands. He doesn't want the video to zoom out and show his brother's infuriatingly sincere face- a high possibility if certain words and distinctions between are to be signed. < _The first one._ >

Another quirk of the head. _I detect irritation and frustration in your tone_. _What seems to be the problem? Is there any way I can assist?_

He crosses his arms and pushes himself further into the corner, jaw tense as he bitterly mutters, < _I_ _don’t want to talk about it_. >

But Baymax isn’t someone easily deterred. He’s a robot on a mission. _Studies have shown that talking to other individuals about you problems helps relieve stress and eases the mind._ A list of statistics pops up on the screen, numbers and charts and graphs color coordinated and organized to a fault.  _Excess stress and anxiety has been proven to cause a deterioration of health and a shortened lifespan. Talking to me would be in your best interest, especially if you do not wish to consult with a person of a more immediate familial relation._

The statistical display go unnoticed by the boy. Instead he turns his head to the side and down, gazing at where the sheets tuck themselves under the mattress and thinking. It goes like this for a few moments and he picks at his lower lip, hesitant.

 _I have been programmed to be an efficient and insightful listener._ Baymax insists, ever patient.

Hiro almost smiles, but stops before it has the chance of fully forming, and visibly deflates, sighing just as he gives in. < _Me and Tadashi got into an argument._ > He pauses, waiting for a response, but, true to his word, Baymax doesn’t speak. Merely listens. < _It’s stupid, honestly. He had promised to take me to the exhibit on hydraulics that being hosted in the city’s science center, like, forever ago, and now he’s flaking out. Says he’s too tired and that we’ll go another time, but we can’t. It’s only for two more weekends and, ugh, it’s always about school with him. School this and school that. I’m tired of hearing of that lame school and he just… he never has time for me anymore._ >

He hasn’t signed so much in a long time and his fingers ache in a pleasant way.

< _W_ _ish he would just take a day off and, I don’t know, actually hang out with me. I mean, he hangs out with me anyway, but even that is full of school and his nerd friends and-_ > Here, the boy makes a particular face. <- _s_ _aving the world_. >

With the words finally communicated, Hiro feels almost empty. The fight is gone and he is left discontent with how the day has gone, maybe even a little regretful.

 _Hiro_ , the robot starts in that matter-of-fact way, optical lenses fluttering shut in an almost human gesture of ease. _It is by my understanding that you are used to a daily routine in which you have unlimited access to your brother and now that this is no longer the case- of which he has other priorities that aren’t centered around you- you feel abandoned._

The boy scoffs. < _That’s ridiculous. I can’t feel abandoned when Tadashi is literally right out the door._ >

But Baymax carries on as if he hadn’t spoken.  _This is quite natural. Many younger siblings experience this when those they look up to start to move on and, as stated in many Best-Selling parental guides across the nation, ‘leave the nest.’ But do not be discouraged, because you must know that your brother loves you and would never intentionally cause you any distress. It based on that care for you that my existence is even possible._

Oh.

When put so eloquently like that, Hiro feels the air around him lighten to something more bearable. Suddenly, he is clambering over his companion, elbows and knees sinking into the robot's form, and reaching for something on the lowest shelf to their left. He lowers himself just as quickly and fiddles with whatever is in his hands; when he's done he settles closely against Baymax's warm side, hearing aids nestled snuggly in his ears.

" _There is no need for your auditory aids_ ," Baymax says, both vocally and not. " _I am completely capable of continuing my care of you without the use of spoken communication._ "

Hiro looks down, mumbling, "It... It's fine. I don't mind."

Baymax is silent for a moment, watching as the boy traces imaginary designs on his hand, eliciting a sound as dry skin rubs against vinyl. Then, "If that is what puts you at ease, I will acquiesce. Your health and comfort are my main priority."

Hiro smiles, slight gap in his front teeth on proud display. "Thanks Baymax... you know-" He looks up from under his lashes. "-for everything."

"You are my patient," the nursebot explains simply.

A lollipop is pulled out of thin air, appearing magically between inflated fingers, and offered. Hiro perks up, eyes alight with childish delight, immediately snatching the candy and popping it in his mouth. Boy and robot stretch into a companionable silence, far different (in an exceedingly good way) than the lack of noise the removal of his hearing aids provided.

"Well, now we're also friends, okay." Hiro declares to the robot, propping a leg onto the other's and leaning back comfortably as he sucks on the candy. "Which means that now we have to hang out- like, all the time."

“If that is what will make me a better healthcare companion, I see no reason why I cannot fulfill your request.”

“Awesome,” he says, biting into his treat, “then we can-”

“However, I must insist that you reconcile with Tadashi before any thought of recreation activities can be considered.”

Hiro frowns. “Now?”

“It would be best.”

Still, he balks at the idea. Gosh, where would he even begin? Does he apologize? Does he let Tadashi talk first? And, ugh, he couldn’t even remember half of what Baymax had said concerning the actual issue and his diagnosis of it, and that had been only minutes ago. He gnaws on the candy stick and asks, “You’ll come with me?”

Baymax’s shutters close in an imitation of a smile. “Of course.”

And, well, that's a start.


End file.
